Bring Back The Night
by Kay-Riss
Summary: With a single question, Jace is pushing himself to madness. Clary loves him but sometimes you need more - like truth, trust...and time. What can happen when things are hanging by a thread?
1. Your Biggest Fan

**Hi there! After a huge mental block, I just suddenly started going with this and I, no matter how sad it was, liked what I was writing. Tell me if you do too as this is the first fanfiction by myself - I also do a joint fanfic with my best friend on here. I'm not sure if it's just going to be a one-shot or not, depending on how it ends up. **

**DISCLAIMER: As much as I'd love to own this characters, I don't. So don't sue me. **

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My head was pounding, my heart going a million miles a minute. Sweat was flowing over my eyebrows, marking my face with the rough odor. A fist came at me and I ducked before swinging my leg out and knocking the man off balance. He teetered for a moment uncertainly before crashing down hard to the alley floor.

I pounced on him where he lay on his stomach, the cold ground cutting into his face. My punches flew off his shoulders and lower back as I dug my nails in. No mercy, every part of me screamed. The people around me screamed differently.

"Get that mad man off of him!" I heard somebody yell, then more hands were coming at me. They pulled me off of the huge man's still body and held me against the wall. I struggled, managing to knock two people off before more came and held me steady. The world was blurring and the buzzing sound in my ears made everything seem surreal. There were monsters around every corner; a demon waiting for me somewhere along the way.

A smooth pair of hands reached over and yanked me away from everybody else and then out of the alley. "Oh man," The person was saying over and over, "Oh man, oh man, oh man." The voice seemed familiar but the throbbing in my brain was not letting me think clearly.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up before Clary sees you." At the sound of that name, things cleared up a little. I remembered that girl. I could recall absolutely everything about her. Her blush that would match her fiery red hair, the piercing green eyes, the unnerving way she would be able to know things.

Finally, I spoke. "Simon?" My voice was rough and broken and I had to clear it before continuing. "What are you even doing here?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my torn sleeve, pulling me the right way down the street as he spoke. "Of course you can still be haughty while hammered. If you really must know, I was on my way to see ..." He paused. "Maia and then I came across you."

I looked at him to see if his face what emotion is face was betraying but my vision was so blurry it just gave me a headache. I put a hand to my forehead to stop it but it did no good. I stopped and stretched my arm out, feeling for something to balance on. I caught Simon and the swaying ceased for a few moments.

"Oh God," Simon's face was crest-fallen as he looked at me. "What is Clary going to say?" I had no idea why he cared so much. So I did not look exactly like Prince Charming at the moment, I knew that. My hair was mussed and I was pretty sure a clump had been torn out. My shirt, like my pants, was ripped and stained – blood or dirt, I did not know.

I shrugged and gestured for us to continue our promenade. He sighed but did not argue. "If you were on your way to Maia's, isn't she still expecting you?" He did not look back as he shrugged and I stumbled forward to catch up.

"She'll understand. Right now, I'm more focused on getting you to the Institute before the cops come and pick you up." I could tell he desperately did not want to touch me but he held my wrists to lead me around anyways. Smart boy – one less hand to hit him with. My mind calculated, with the way he was holding my wrist, I could easily flip him over my back therefore breaking the jawbone and snapping finger bones at the same time. From then on out, it would simply be the matter of pinning him down and finding his weakest point. I laughed inwardly. What was I talking about? Every part of him was his weakest point.

"Stop looking at me that way." He snapped, his pace getting quicker. I jumped in front of him, halting his increasingly fast movements. I had to swing my arms out to regain my balance.

"Why do you care," I had to pause to gulp in some much needed air. "What Clary thinks about me? Don't you want her to stop liking me so you can have even half a chance?" Simon flinched as if I had actually thrown him over my shoulder.

"Listen," he said, glaring me down. As a vampire, he seemed particularly deadly at this moment. "I don't care about you at all. I probably couldn't care _less _about you. But I care about Clary and _she_ cares about _you_. Do you think I want to wake her up from her little happy dreamland where you're perfect and can do no wrong? I'm not the one who's going to bring reality crashing down on her, thank you very much. She's happy right now and I, obviously unlike you, am trying to keep her that way."

The words muddled over my brain, trickling down like the smallest bit of water. I felt like giggling as I pictured water flowing over a brain but knew it was not the time. His big rant was barely making any sense to me in this state. I shook my head as liquids filled my mouth. "Just take me to the Institute."

Simon stared at me for a moment before grabbing my wrist again and leading me away. "I love hearing you say that." I heard him murmur lightly. "I always picture a mental institute in my head."

Clary was at the Institute when we showed up. I groaned but did not try to hide behind Simon as he had boasted I probably would. On the way here, he had tried to fix me up but nothing had made me look any better. I told him that I always looked good no matter what so not to worry. He sighed, rolled his eyes and did not say anything the rest of the way.

"Simon!" She yelled, racing out the door. She stopped cold when she saw me. The color from her face slowly leaked out as she eyes my mangled body. I tried to give her a typical signature smirk but found I could not rid my face of it's dead emotion. My head was still swimming.

"Jace?" Clary said, her voice showing she was confused. I lifted my chin and gave a curt nod, not wanting to look at the hurt plainly dripping off of her face. I walked past her and the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss all her troubles away overtook me. As much as I hated myself for it, I could not give in. Not just yet, anyways.

I went to a washroom and washed my face, visualizing that the water was a healer. My eyes were sore and all I wanted was to lie down and sleep for the next couple hundred of years or so. My memory was all fuzzy like my sight had been. Why had I even gone to that bar? Why had I been punching that man? It all made no sense but it had made me feel better, nonetheless.

_I had been walking downtown, hands stuffed deep in my pockets. My head was bent low and my hair was falling over my face. I could feel the eyes of a few teenage girls watching me. They giggled as I looked up and made eye contact with one of them. Normally, I'd have winked. I was in no mood to do that today. _

_I had been told many times over to never judge a book by it's cover but I could not help it. The blond was failing in math and getting "extra credit" from a male teacher. I knew that by the way she kept her head down and averted eyes when the topic of that school subject came up between her friends and she jumped every time an older man walked by her. By the way she walked, I could see she was getting over an ankle injury that had happened while dancing. The dancing was simply a guess because of her thin, tall frame._

_The brunette she was with laughed too much and spoke too loudly. I could tell she wanted to be excepted so badly that she would go to whatever costs to do so. Her eyes frequently darted from side to side and she licked her lips nervously. Whenever somebody came up behind her, she would cover her body subtly. I stopped my mind from making assumptions and continued pacing about._

_I heard shouts as I passed a place with a disgusting odor. Still, the curiosity and the sense of knowing it was probably somewhere I shouldn't have been drew me in. The door was already open so there was no tinkle of small bells to announce my arrival. I was sadly disappointed but it just fell into line with everything else that made me feel bad at the moment. I could not even think of going home after the fight I had had with Clary. Every time I tried to fathom it, some part inside of me shriveled up to die. As much as I knew I loved her, I would not be the one to admit that I had been wrong. _

_A man was standing behind the bar, his unshaved mug was slightly unpleasant to look at but I ordered my drink and kept my head down, carefully surveying the stuff around me. There must have been about only two women in the whole bar. The rest were middle-aged men with potbellies and wives left in the kitchen. I stifled my rage with another hearty gulp. They did not know how good they had it. Everything was placed on a silver platter in front of them and they chose to throw it away here instead._

_Before I knew it, I had downed my first glass and another came to take it's place. Then another and another. It seemed to be able to go on forever and I finally smiled for the first time that day when I could not remember the argument. I could scarcely remember my own name. _

_"I'm going to have to cut you off, buddy." The bartender said, wiping out the last of my glasses. I moaned and reached to grab it out of his hands but he backed away. _

_"More." I groaned. My head hurt like hell but the drinking made it feel better and then made it feel even worst than ever before._

_"Bud, I'm going to call you a cab, okay? I'm going to call you a cab and then you can go home." _

_"I'm not going home." The events of what happened before I came here flooded back to me in a painful realization. A man's voice at the back of the room was far too loud from his inebriation. _

_"Speaking of going home, Marge, how's about you come home with me, huh?" I spun around on the stool and promptly fell out of the seat. The ground was a sharp pain on my back and the two people turned to stare at me._

_"For the last time, Charlie, no! Leave me alone!" Marge looked much younger than the man and I instantly felt like I needed to do something when he went and wrapped his arms around her petite body. She struggled to get him off._

_"Leave her alone!" I yelled, stumbling over and planting a fist-sandwich to his face. _

"Jace?" Her voice cut through my reverie. I span on my heel to look at her. She was standing there with that uncertain look on her face as she chewed her bottom lip. My heart ached with the beauty of it all.

"What's going on with you? I just ... I just don't get you sometimes." Her voice was quivering and my stomach clenched. She was looking at me like... like I was dangerous. I opened my arms and pulled her near, inhaling her lovely scent. She was stiff as a board and did not react to my hands. Her voice was muffled as she was pressed up to my chest.

"That's not an answer."

"I thought it was a solution." I tilted my head down and pressed my lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck and then her mouth. Clary was a bit hesitant at first but then gave in as my arms grew like a steel cage around her. Our fight was still in the back of my mind. Why had she said no? It was like our love meant nothing to her yet every time I looked at her, I felt that warmth that would spread to my whole body.

She pulled away slightly to whisper in my ear. "It doesn't solve anything, Jace."

I made her come closer to me in a hug that seemed to defy time. I put my chin on her head and hoped to the Angel she would just let it be. No, I was the one who seemed to always bring it back up. I was the one who could never just laugh and move on. No, it was me but everything about it revolved around her.

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**Well, there you have it. I was listening to sad music. Next time, I'll tell you to brace yourself. THANKS FOR READING! **

**- Kay.**


	2. On The Brightside

**Hello again! For those who was wondering, this comes a few years after City of Glass and Jace and Clary have been together for years. Thank you for the nice reviews - you two guys made me smile. :) Just a quick warning: This chapter is filled with angst and sad moments. I hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: Once again, I don't own these characters - never have and never will. **

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The wall kept my spine straight as I pressed my back to it, listening. Murmurs and soft cries were coming from the inside of the room and my heart ached to hear such uncertainty.

"Mom, I don't know if I can do this. I really don't. I love Jace more than life and everything but -" Clary's voice softly drifted over to me. 'But'? Why was there a 'but'? Our love was supposed to be enough to live off of, wasn't it? I had always been so sure of myself.

There was silence from which I guessed Jocelyn was giving her opinion to her daughter over the phone. I desperately wanted to burst in and show her that I was there, tell her that I had heard every backstabbing comment she had made. It was her fault, my mind was telling me, her fault that things were turning out the way they were.

"Yeah, I get it. Maybe moving in with Jace wasn't the best move I've ever made…" My heart froze mid-beat. The eyes she could not see were widening I had told Simon to take me to the Institute yesterday after my rough night that was not where Clary and I lived. A month previous, we had moved in together in a little apartment downtown. I was guessing she was beginning to regret such a thing. "But it definitely was not the worst. Maybe we're just going through a rough spot." I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"No, no Mom. You listen." Her tone was getting edgier and more agitated and the silences of her voice got shorter and shorter until it was just Clary practically yelling at her mother. I flinched as her voice went up an octave. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions! I phoned because I needed somebody that would understand. Simon wouldn't understand – do you think he's ever had a boyfriend? Aren't people supposed to turn to their mothers when they're in need of help? That's what I was trying to do! I wanted you to listen, Mom and the last thing I need right now is criticism!" I could practically hear the tears welling up in her eyes.

"What do you mean it's not as bad as it seems? Is that your idea of motherly advice?" I imagined her sitting on the bed; her small legs tucked under her as she clutched a pillow to her chest with one hand and cradled the phone to her ear with the other. Her hair would be up and about, her eyes glowing with the fight. "I get enough crap about this already and now my own mother is practically telling me to either grab a flight to Las Vegas and get married or ditch the man! I can't believe you! Fine. Bye." There was an almost inaudible click on the other side of the wall as Clary hung up. I stared off at nothing, my head empty spare for the continuous cycle of her last words.

There were sobs echoing around as I pushed myself away from my eavesdropping spot. Without a second thought, I walked into the room. The door creaked with the force when I opened it, causing the red-faced girl to look up from her spot with her head mashed into the pillow.

Was I supposed to say sorry? I did not know but it didn't seem right to do so. Instead, I loped over and sat next to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. My thumb rubbed the small circles, making creases and smoothing them out over and over and over again.

"Did you hear all that?" Her fragile words floated over, playing with the drums in my ears. I nodded, with a small grunt to show the affirmative. She flipped over to her stomach, able to look at my face now.

"I don't know who she thinks she is, I guess." Clary stared at me, long and hard, urging me to look away. Even if I had wanted to, I did not. Her face, so startlingly pale with a blush that contrasted so beautifully, was captivating and alluring. Her hair was a mess, she wore no makeup and her cheeks were streaked with tears – but she was still as gorgeous as ever.

"I think she thinks she's your mom." I joked lightly, attempting a brief smile. I was relieved when she returned it. I was about to make myself comfortable over top of her but she spoke before I could move my mouth to hers.

"That doesn't give her the right to own me." She propped herself up on her elbows, letting her head lean back towards the warmth of the mattress. I leaned over and pressed my cool lips to her forehead and pulled away just quick enough to see her wrinkle her nose.

"What?"

"You haven't shaved for a while. It prickled."

I chuckled and ran a hand along the length of my jaw. It felt strange and unnatural – like petting a fish. The texture was different than what you were used to.

"What did she say, though? I didn't hear everything." It was true. I had just gotten back from another stroll downtown and this one had left me in much higher spirits. They were starting to evaporate, though, after all the stuff I had heard.

"She thought that, since I won't marry you, I should leave you." Clary's eyes flickered back and forth, focusing on everything but the person she was talking to. I gritted my teeth, angry that her mother would say such a thing. Still, it left me with the question I had been repeatedly asking myself and her for the past week.

"Why won't you marry me?" Still, she wouldn't meet my eyes. I could hear her heart beating with every slow, steady breath she took. Finally, she answered my question.

"I'm just not ready." I had known she was going to say that. It's what she had said word-for-word each and every time I had asked. I sighed internally but the outside me raged. We had been together for years and expressed our love millions of times in millions of ways. How could she not be ready for this simple step?

"Is there someone else? Is that it?" The conclusion had been drawn up lazily one night when I had been thinking about all of our recent arguments and disagreements. I had never even thought about questioning her about it, fearing what she would say. I was not afraid of her reaction, I was afraid of her answer.

"Oh my god! Are you really that insecure?" Clary's eyes snapped into place, staring at me with the highest level of intensity. I shivered as she had not looked at me with such ferocity for the longest time.

"Well, why else won't you marry me? Who is he? I swear to the Angel I will rip his guts out by his nostrils." My hands curled into tight fists at my sides as I quivered with my rage. All I could see beyond my eyelids was a faceless stranger holding my red-haired lover, kissing her, doing stuff that I had been limited of for the past weeks.

"You have to believe me!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "There is no one else!"

"Then marry me, god damn it!" I snarled, my lips emotionless lines that pressed together just to make sound. I wanted her so badly I could taste it yet she still denied me of the only thing that would put all our worries to rest.

"I can't! I just can't!" Clary jumped up and sprinted out of the room, her hair flowing like a cape behind her. I hung my head as I got up, preparing for more mindless wandering.

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The night air was a cold slap in the face. I had already spent most of my day and night outside but it had considerably cooled while I was inside. Perhaps it was just me and the adjusting of my body. I laughed at that possibly – no, that would make it my fault. There always had to be somebody else to blame.

I had chosen a light leather jacket to adorn me as I strolled through the night. The air was brisk and the wind smooth and almost inviting. Where was one to go when there was was no one that wanted him? I knew I always had a home in the Institute – after all, it was every Shadowhunter's sanctuary – but I could tell that Alec had had enough of all my whining and moping. I had just steered clear of all the other people.

"Looking for someone, nutmeg?" A crisp voice said, emerging from the darkness. I turned on my heel, looking for the body to the words. There was no one there. Slowly, I slithered over to the closest alley and pressed myself against the bricks. After a second of silence, I turned around and punched into the pitch black but connected with nothing.

Somebody laughed at the way I was making a fool of myself. I spun around again, arms at the ready. For some strange reason, it was putting a smile on my face. I had actually heard a genuine laugh. It felt strange after so long without that lovely sound.

"It's a game of cat and mouse, love. See if you can find me." The voice was so familiar but I could not place it. I racked my brain for something, anything that would tell me who it was.

"I'm sick of games. Come out here." A tap on my shoulder made me turn around to face the empty air in front of me. Maybe it had just been my imagination, no matter how sure I was that I had felt something.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." I singsonged, my mouth lifted in a coy smile. I was on the prowl, looking for this intruder to my private moping. There was another tinkle of oh-so-familiar laughter before there were no sounds at all.

"No, you're the one that has to come out." The person spoke, their words coming from all sides at once. "You're always hiding in yourself. It's like right now – you're just reaching into corners where you'll find nothing."

"Who are you?" I shouted, flailing my arms out. Anybody that would have seen me must have thought that I was absolutely insane. I wasn't so sure either, by then. My eyes started to tear up as the full impact of me and Clary's heated discussion came back to me. In the middle of the dirty, trash-filled streets of down New York, I sat down, my head buried in my hands.

"Whoa, nutmeg, no need to cry. I was only having a little fun." I felt a hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me to no avail. I hid my face, not wanting to let this person see my distress.

"Just go away." My words were muffled by the blockage in front of my mouth but they were easy enough to understand. Those three little words were sometimes as powerful as 'I love you'. Sometimes they did as much damage.

"No."

I looked up. "No?" When somebody was obviously upset and wanted to be alone, you were not supposed to say 'no'. Then, I knew who I was talking to. It made sense – the way he was fooling with me, the nicknames, the voice.

"Magnus, what are you doing here?" This was twice in two days I had run into people that came upon me at my worst moments. No – this was twice in two days that I had been purposefully sought out whenever I was losing it.

"Isn't it obvious?" He said, flicking his wrist towards me. I was now in no mood for any more of his tomfoolery. I wasn't in the mood for anything, let alone a homosexual warlock.

I stared at him, lifting an eyebrow with the edges of my lips set into a close-lipped frown. "Magnus, go to Alec or something. Don't you have some schmoozing to do in your bedroom with him?"

"Oh, no no no! That won't do!" Magnus pulled out a pad of paper from the pocket of his too-tight pants. Jace didn't even try to question how he had managed to fit it in there. He licked his thumb and started flipping through pages. "Nope, schmoozing with Alec isn't on until three o'clock tomorrow. So I'm free right now." He smirked at me, his cat-like eyes unwavering.

"Magnus -" I started, standing up and brushing myself off. I was just going to walk away, plain and simple.

"No no no! See, I'm not trying to frustrate you!" He grabbed my arm as I turned away, his sharp nails digging in rather painfully. "I'm here to help you."

"I don't think there's anything you can -" I froze mid-sentence. "Yeah, maybe there _is _something you can do." I turned to face him, the thoughts whirled around in my brain. "You don't have, like, a conscience or anything, right?"

He crossed his arms, raising his thin eyebrows at me. "I may be part demon but I'm not all evil."

I rolled my eyes, preparing to leave once more. "Are you going to help or not, warlock? I don't have time for this." He didn't need to know that I had all the time in the world and more.

"If you're trying to kill Clary off so you can womanize other people without her having to cry herself to sleep every night because you left her, nothing doing. I'm not that bad, even for moi."

"What? No. Do you have some sort of spell to change her mind or something?" I watched as his brows furrowed together.

"I do." Those two words stopped my breath. Would he do what I wanted?

"... Do you have a spell to erase somebody's memory?" I was mentally crossing my fingers.

"That I do." He offered no more on the subject, choosing simply to stare me down, questioning with his eyes whether I would do something to get what I wanted or the right thing.

"Tell me. Are you in?" I put my hand out, waiting for his to fill it with a shake.

"As much as I like you, Shadowhunter, - which isn't a lot, for the record – I never said I would hurt someone to help you. There has to be another way to get you out of your depressive slump."

"If you can't help me the way I want you to, I'm gone." With that, I turned to once again leave. My mind was already chastising me for not having left earlier. I was just getting myself into stuff that would end badly.

"You're going about this the wrong way, Jace! And you wonder why she won't marry you!" Magnus shouted after me, his words leaving me cold.

I wandered around, every single thing making me feel worse than I had. Things were not going my way at all. If Magnus was not going to help me, then I was going to have to go to someone that would.

I found a phone booth and went in, slipping two mundane quarters into the little money slot before putting the cool metal to my ear. Beeps followed as I pressed each small button.

"Hello?"

"This is Mr. Morgerstern. I need your help and I'm willing to do anything to get it. So listen up."

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**Thank you so much for reading - or at least making it this far! Reviews are welcomed with open arms, as are suggestions. The next chapter should be up ... whenever I finish writing it. Soon, I believe!**

**- Kay.**


	3. Slow Me Down

**Hi guys! I am so sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out but it is longer than the others, so I hope you are happy. :) I am going to apologize right now, because the next chapter will not be out for a while. I am going to France tomorrow (I know, exciting) but I just _had _to get this chapter out before I left! I really hope it is everything that you hoped for because it's, well, it's a bit of a shocker.**

**I dedicate this chapter to my all-time best friend Charlotte who writes the Mortal Instruments fanfic 'Return to Me'. Her alias is 'Caitlyn Herondale'. I have just got to say, she is amazing. In writing and everything else, as well. I love you. **

**Without further ado, read on.**

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He sat across from me in a huge, leather chair with the tips of his fingers pressed together in thought. Each passing moment made me more uneasy and I was beginning to wish that I had never come. Still, I could not get out of my plan now that I had come to him. I attempted to seem cool and collected, the smirk on my face never leaving even though I was sweating inside.

The silence stretched in front of us like a person running a marathon – you just did not know when it was going to end. I knew I was not going to be the one to break it. I was never the one to do that. I glanced at him from under my eyelashes, lightly clearing my throat. The wee hours of the morning were creeping upon us and, now, I desperately wanted to get home.

"You're in need of my services?" He tilted his head downwards, his short black ringlets falling down over his blue-tinged face. I nodded, my lips thin lines against each other.

"It's my -" I started before he put a hand up, palm facing me just inches from my face. His skin had the strangest odor; the misty smell of fog and early-morning dew on the grass. It was a pleasant and earthy smell and I inhaled deeply before stopping completely. It was making me incredibly light-headed and I did not want to fill myself with whatever dark magic this warlock had about him

"Did I say you could speak?" His voice was smooth and flawless, no lisp or break at all. He was smiling, his sparkly eyebrows placed high up on his forehead. A few more moments of silence passed. "Speechless, eh?"

"But you just said-!" I started to stand, angry already. Warlocks always aggravated me, this one more than others. I had come to him because I knew nobody else that would help me, spare complete demons.

"Uh uh uh!" He clucked, waving a finger at me. I sat back down, crossing my arms and straightening my legs in front of myself. "The thing with you, Jacey-poo, is that you never know when to speak and when to keep your mouth shut."

I was guessing that this was one of the times to not talk. It was exactly the time that I had so much to say. We just sat there, staring at each other. The tension in me was running wild while he seemed perfectly at ease.

Finally, he decided it was time to actually do something. I was moments away from simply getting up and walking out. Clary had to be wondering where I was by now. For all the times I had gone and taken a midnight stroll, this was the longest time I had been out. I would walk around until my rage would run out and then I would be able to face her happily.

"So, what is it that you need me to do? You understand that I do not work cheaply or for free. We will discuss payment later."

"Money is no object." Maryse probably would not mind if I borrowed something. Borrowed being the operative word. I would find a way to repay her one day.

"Good." That coy smile was back. "Now tell me your … situation." The word played atop of his tongue like a trapeze-artist, all delicate and ready to fall.

"It's my girlfriend, Clarissa." It felt weird to call her by her given name. "We've been together for years and have just recently moved in with each other. I've asked her to marry me several times – and she won't. I think there's someone else."

"Oh my god, Jace." He said, tapping his temple with his index finger. "This is what you called me for? I'm a very busy man. You don't need me, you need a therapist."

"It's not just that!" I snapped. "I'd like to completely wipe her memory, if I can. We've had so many fights lately and I…" I looked away from him, not able to stare into his unwavering eyes any longer. It was unnerving and I knew I could not show weakness around him.

"As much as I'd like to just drain her of any memories and then watch you scramble to fix the utter disaster you made, I can't. Why?" He wrapped a curly piece of hair around his long, thin blue finger and watched it bounce for a few seconds. "Because I tolerate you. I only tolerate you because I liked your father. I only liked your father because he would occasionally treat me like an equal. Me, Bolom Nuarr! Can you imagine?" He laughed as if the idea amused him.

"Now, I'm going to let you in on a little secret." I leaned in, interested already. His comment about Valentine had put me off a little and I had had to bite my tongue from telling him we weren't related. I had only called myself Mr. Morgenstern to gain his attention at the beginning of my phone call to him.

"You, my little pudding pie," Bolom said, stroking my chin with his finger, "are trying to change Clary when what you should really be doing is readjusting yourself."

I pushed his hand away from my face, disgusted with the proximity of his being. Was it some sort of law that all warlocks had to like boys? I wrinkled my nose as I moved as far back in my chair as I could without making it seem like I didn't want him to help me.

"What do you mean?"

"How much do you love this Clarissa?" He crossed over my question with another one of his.

"I love her more than anything in the world. Even more than that combined." Saying this gave me a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach; a feeling so nice I wanted to grab it and keep it with me so I could feel it always.

Mr. Nuarr put his arms up around his shoulders and I wanted to comment, asking if he was checking for rain. I bit the inside of my mouth to stop the chuckling. His dark orange eyes shot towards me, looking for the cause of humor.

"That should be your answer then. When you love someone as much as you say you do, you don't try to change them so you get your way – you change yourself and … hopefully then you'll get what you want." He shrugged, as if he could not care less. "Compromise, tidbit, compromise."

"I love her." I whispered, closing my eyes. Her smile was playing on the back of my eyelids. When I opened them, he was giving me an absent-minded hand wave.

"Don't tell me." He stated. "Tell her."

I could practically feel her soft lips against mine there and then. I wanted to hold her, make up for all the damage I had done to her heart and soul, fill in the gaps of our time apart from each other.

I jumped up from my plush chair. It startled Bolom and he froze for a second before turning to me, seething silently. "Where do you think _you're_ going?"

I began to slowly back away to the door, arms by my side in a sure, protective stance. "You've convinced me. I'm heading back to my lady-love to make it up to her."

His jaw dropped, showing perfectly aligned pointed teeth. "Without _magic_?" His voice was coated with layers of disbelief.

I crossed my arms, tapping my foot impatiently. "What do you suggest, warlock?"

"Don't you take that tone with me." Bolom waited, but I was not about to say I was sorry. It was hard enough to stop my eyes from rolling already.

"What do you suggest, oh great Mister Magical Bolom Nuarr?" I curtsied, pulling the sides of my black pants as far as they would go in an impression of a skirt. He snickered, pulling at the rings he had around his long fingers.

"It is hard to explain it to someone with a brain as small as yours. Hm." He eyed me up and down, making some self-consciousness creep into my being. I had never cared what people thought about me before but he was intently staring at me with such a calculating look, it just made me want to cover myself more than I already was.

"Think of it as … a personality change." He snapped his fingers and a large carton of bottles filled with a strange blue liquid appeared in his grasp. He picked up one container and swirled it around a few times before raising it to his nose and taking a long sniff. I watched and waited, my curiosity almost getting the better of me.

"All you have to do is take one of these a day. I have enough here for three weeks. Here, take one. Try it. Then you can be on your way." He popped the lid off of one of the bottles and then shoved it in my hand. I put it up to my nose, inhaling like I saw him do. The smell swirled around inside my brain, sliding my eyes in and out of focus. It was strong and very fragrant, like alcohol, strawberries and flowery perfume all mixed together. I lowered it a bit until it was touching my lips.

"Is this safe?" I muttered, tilting the bottle back a little but not enough for the heavy sludge of the blue liquid to come out.

He answered with a shout of glee as I poured it into my mouth. "Not at all."

* * *

I stumbled back into our apartment, humming happily to myself and for everybody else that wanted to hear the beautiful, melodic tune. It sounded strangely like Yankee Doodle. My head was filled with the most wondrous colors that were swirling and dancing and prancing all around. I could not keep the smile off of my face.

I strolled into the kitchen to check the time on the oven clock. With everything a little blurry, I could scarcely make out that it was about four o'clock in the morning. I skipped to the bedroom where I had no doubt Clary was sleeping and I was not disappointed when I found her there. She was curled in on herself; a perfect doll of a girl. Slowly, and still in my completely exuberant mood, I crawled in beside her.

It felt like just a few moments but it must have been hours, when she started to stir. She groaned and arched her back, stretching it out before she turned over with a small, contented sigh.

"Good morning, beautiful." I kissed her nose, causing her to open her eyes. She just laid there, blinking slowly and softly before inching forward and cuddling up and against my chest. I shifted my weight so I could move my one arm out from under me so I could wrap both of them around her small frame.

She nuzzled up against me, her red hair tickling my nose. I leaned in and planted a kiss atop her head, making her sigh again.

"Why can't every day be like this?" She whispered against my chest. I couldn't help but shiver from the feathery touch of her words. I held her closer, being careful not to hold her too hard else I might hurt her. She seemed so delicate, so breakable, like a porcelain doll.

"It can be." I traced her spine with the tips of my fingers, playing with the ends of her hair. She looked up at me, her emerald globes shining with curiosity. I pressed my lips to her forehead, wondering whether I should tell her or not. I decided not to, keeping this small secret to myself for now.

"What do you mean?" Clary spoke almost inaudibly. I mentally thought about the best way to word what had happened to me, the feeling of the drink and the emotions after it. It was almost like one of those antidepressants for mundie's.

"I've changed, Clary. I've changed for the better." I saw her eyes fill with tears that threatened to spill over as she pressed her face against my chest. I could feel the salty water leaking onto my shirt.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that, Jace." With that, I dipped down and touched her lips with mine. I could feel the electric shock running through her veins. It was like our first kiss all over again, if you doubled the passion and tripled the need in our bodies. It had been so long since we had felt like this with each other and we were both moving like crazy, trying to get what we could in before our feelings withered once more.

Everything we did had a magic-coating to it; our love and the potion I had taken. I ran my fingers through her hair, our lips moving in synchronization.

"I love you." She whispered, clutching me close to her. My fingers ran under the edge of her tee-shirt, making her shiver slightly. Clary giggled as I brushed her collarbone with my lips.

"Likewise." I answered, brushing hair away from her face. Her eyes were half-closed, in a dreamlike state where everything must have been a beautiful fantasy. I was desperately hoping that she would remember this later, and not think of it as a simple illusion of her sleepy mind.

"What do you want?" She murmured, playfulness in her voice and actions. She nudged me with her foot, running her toes up and down my leg. I growled in the back of my throat, the fog in my brain still overwhelmingly thick. What did I want? I had wanted everything to be alright and now it seemed to be just fine. But no, I knew she was not talking about that when she tilted her head up and lightly bit my bottom lip. I pulled away.

"Sleep." I could not bring myself to look at her disappointed face as I buried my head in the pillow and drifted off into wonderful darkness.

The sun was breaking through the window like a lion trying to get out of a cage; intimidating and unwanted. I moaned and rolled over, arm reaching out for somebody that was not there. The sheets were not even warm anymore.

Something did not feel right. It was not the fact that she was not with me anymore as I had no idea what time of day it was. It was me. Last night, I had felt elated. I had felt like I was walking on light, fluffy clouds made out of cotton-candy. Now,there was something different. My mind was ... empty, my throat sore and wanting. I needed more of that drink, that elixir of life.

"Clary?" I groaned, sitting up. No answer. I was not sure if I expected one. What was the typical reply – if there ever was one? I could not remember. I heard footsteps that were gradually getting closer and closer.

"Oh, you're finally up, huh Jace?" Clary smiled, crossing her arms and leaning in the doorway. I tilted my head to the side, squinting hard at her.

* * *

"Did you do something with your hair?"

"Uh, bedhead?"

I started to get out of bed, my legs shaking slightly. I grabbed onto the frame of the bed to get some balance before turning and looking at her again. There was something there and it was right on the tip of my tongue, I just could not place it.

"Are you sure? You look different." I moved towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She shimmied away with a small laugh and looked at me from an arms length away. It was not just her hair, it was her whole body.

"Since when have you had that birthmark?" I asked, motioning towards her arm. She raised her eyebrows at me before looking down to see what I was pointing at. Her bemused expression did not change when she looked back up at me.

"I've had that _birth_mark since the day I was _born._ Just last week you were telling me how it reminded you of a duck. Don't you remember?" The closer I looked at it, the more I could see that it did resemble a strange outline of a duck.

"No. I don't remember." I rubbed my head, practically hearing a hollow sound beneath my fingers. I wanted the feeling of that space being filled, that emotion that made me so happy and revived the love that had been growing dormant.

"Drink. I need a drink." I grumbled, pushing past her to find the carton of bottles I had left at the front door. There was nothing going through my mind as I pushed the cool liquid down my throat, the beat a constant reminder of the heart I was trying to fix.

Soon, the content of the bottle was completely empty and the grin was back in place on my stubbled face. There was still something missing but, for the life of me, I could not think what it was. I could not recall anything, as it would be.

Names, eye colors, places – they seemed to be all lost on me now. I held the bottle up and turned it over and around. While I took it, it made everything all right, but when it was gone, so was the real world around me. What had I just done?

* * *

**Well, that's it for now! Ooh, tension is building up! But at least I got to finally write a little love scene. Comment and tell me what you thought, okay? It means the world to me. :) **

**Until next time! (Which will, unfortunately, be a while.)**

**- Kay.**


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